Home
by Lauriesf
Summary: This story is complete. It has been bugging me for quite a while. I hope you'll like it. It's all about giving closure to John and Elizabeth.
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis – Home

 _Don't own anything about the show except a huge crush on John Sheppard and a wistfullness for what could have happened had they not removed Elizabeth from the show. So, no infringement intended. Just taking the characters and their universe out to play for a while._

 _Spoilers for mostly everything, just to be on the safe side._

Chapter 1

She opens the door and startles, seeing him standing there right in front of her, his hand ready to knock on the door. He lowers his hand slowly and looks at her ruefully.

"Major, what are doing here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Anything unexpected came up?"

He shakes his head and looks at his feet, avoiding her gaze. "No, ma'am. I was kind of driving by and thought I might drop to see if you needed anything..." He lifts his head as he talks but combs his fingers through his already unruly hair. Most characteristic of him, she realizes.

"John," she warns him.

He clears his throat. "Well, I might not have driven by your mother's neighborhood, rather more like driven to..." He blushes slightly and that's another endearing feature of his, she reflects. He can't lie.

She steps aside and motions for him to get inside. "Coffee?" she offers.

He almost steps in but stops dead in his tracks when he sees the jacket draped on her forearm and the handbag resting on her shoulder. "Going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I was planning on doing some shopping at the galleria while on leave. Not much choice back home, if you see what I mean," she elaborates.

He nods and then falls silent. "What is it, John?" she asks quietly, her hand coming to rest on his arm briefly.

He smiles ruefully. "You said home..." His voice trails off.

She chuckles as it dawns on her. "You're bored and homesick!" It's not a question. He shuffles uncomfortably. "Right?" she insists.

"Aren't you?" The question surprises her. She didn't expect him to be so straightforward on that subject.

She ponders it for just a few seconds and nods. "Not bored. But homesick, yes." She smiles at him and motions for him to get inside. "Come on. You need some pep talk, as I can see. I'll make coffee and we'll talk. You must have tons of things to tell me since the last time we saw each other," she teases him.

He scowls. "Very funny, 'Lizabeth!" They've been on Earth for less than a week and still have a few days to go before they have to go back. All debriefings have been completed and Homeworld Security has cleared them to have a few days to themselves. Elizabeth is spending some days at her mother's. John was supposed to go and see his family, or so he'd told her anyway but she suspects this is all but a front. She knows from reading his file that he's hardly on speaking terms with his father and brother.

She decides to let it slide and tease him some more.

"So it seems you've been on leave for too long, Major," she chides him, raising an eyebrow.

He looks at her expectantly, not knowing what to make of it.

"Calling your superior by her first name, now?" She smirks. She doesn't have to wait for long before he retaliates.

"Well, ma'am," he insists on the word, "I apologize if I was too forward. I didn't mean no disrespect." His smirk mirroring hers and the cocky drawl in his voice belies his words.

She laughs out loud and slaps his arm playfully. "Come on, John, get inside. That's an order!"

He doesn't budge but instead grabs the keys from her hand and closes the door for her then hands them back to her. "I wouldn't dare take precious time from your tight schedule, 'Lizabeth. You wanted to go shopping. I'll escort you there and keep you safe from any alien creature daring to even think about approaching you," he banters.

She shakes her head and resists the tug of his hand as he gently tries to lead her to the car he's parked in front of the house. "Really, John, window shopping with you? I'm not sure that's a good idea. I've been told men are not really keen on that very feminine activity. I don't want you to get bored to death. Besides, I have offered you coffee and I know you can't say no when it comes to it," she counters, tempting him.

He ignores her and keeps on tugging her towards the street. "I say we go shopping and we get coffee at the same time. I won't take no for an answer."

She shakes her head and laughs, letting him have his way. "You're stubborn," she remarks, beaming at him as he opens the passenger door to his military-issue SUV.

"Right back at ya'," he counters as he closes the door and rounds the car to his side.

They drive in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He starts humming along with the music then briefly turns to her. "I didn't ask. I'm sorry. I should have enquired about your mother. Is she well? Maybe she wanted to come with you..." His voice trails off as he concentrates on the road.

She chuckles. "Stop rambling, John. My mother is fine. And no, she doesn't want to tag along! Right now, she's playing bridge with her dear friends and as things often go, they'll end up in their favorite restaurant afterwards and come home late. See, I'm all yours!"

He glances at her and gives her a grateful smile. "That's good! I suddenly realized you were humoring me because I was moody. I don't want to intrude."

She tsks and laughs. "You know, for someone who has all the girls at his feet (he rolls his eyes at that, in mock exasperation), you're quite self-conscious. I wouldn't have pegged you for being the type who apologizes all the time."

"I'm not. It's just things are so different here – normal, some would say. I'm not used to "normal" relationships anymore," he acknowledges as he parks the car in the mall's parking lot. He kills the engine and turns, angling his body towards her.

"I see," she says quietly and winces. He was the one to initiate this outing but maybe he doesn't feel comfortable with her. She tells him. "But that's OK," she adds, resting her hand on his forearm. "You can leave me here. I'll take a cab home when I'm done."

He combs his hand through his hair and massages his neck, wincing too. "I'm sorry, 'Lizabeth. Not what I meant. I'm clumsy with words. We make a great pair, uh? You, the diplomat, who always knows what to say and me, the flyboy, who never knows how to talk to people."

She squeezes his arm gently. "It's OK. I'm the one who did not interpret properly what you meant. And I do get it, you know. "Normal" doesn't mean anything to me anymore, except what we have on Atlantis... Except what you and I have, John. We connect normally. See, it's just here things are more difficult." He gazes at her but remains silent. "John, talk to me, please."

She's left her hand rest on his forearm and it is soothing him. "I..." he hesitates, unsure of if he's going to be able to convey to her how he feels. She smiles, encouraging him to go on. Right now, they're just two friends sharing their most inner thoughts. The cabin of the SUV is acting like a shield, a cocoon protecting them from the harsh reality of the outside world. "I spent one year in Afghanistan and one at Mc Munro. Then we left for Atlantis. I don't connect to that life anymore. I feel lost here. There's no one waiting for me, no one who can understand what I've been through, no one I can confide in... except you."

He falls silent and her heart goes out to him. She knows. She's experienced the same. She's always been on the move since her father passed away. There's not much to keep her here. She can't tell anyone where she's been, what she's been through. Except him. She feels she doesn't belong on Earth anymore. Her companion has chosen not to wait for her. She has not called her friends because what could she tell them? She'd have to lie through and through to protect what she knows. Even her relationship with her mother has evolved. And in a sense, it's for the better. If something happens to her, her mother is already used to not seeing her, not hearing from her. She has her own life, full of little, meaningless things that are as alien to Elizabeth as her life on Atlantis would be to her mom. She has encouraged her to go on with her life while she's visiting because she doesn't want to disrupt her well-organized routine – her comfort zone.

She tells him. She pours her heart out to him, except for Simon – that, she cannot tell him. He doesn't have to know how humiliated and lonely she feels. "So, you see, John, I do get it. I'm homesick too, even when I know we'll face many more dangers when we get there. All our friends are there. Everyone there makes me feel at home – where I rightly belong."

He teases her as he rests his hand on top of hers. "Even Rodney?" He's got twinkles in his eyes. It feels good to see him relax.

She gently removes her hand from under his but slaps his arm playfully. "Yes! Even Rodney! Now, let's get inside. I've got tons of window shopping to do and I still owe you a cup of coffee."

They exit the car and start walking toward the entrance. "You 'buying?" he asks, smirking. "Should have said it earlier. Would have saved us the talk!"

She knows this is his way of lightening the mood. She loosely folds her arm in his. "Behave! You're acting like a four-year-old!"

He puts his hand on hers and pats it gently. "I know, ma'am. But that's exactly what I am!" he banters, wagging his eyebrows, making her laugh out loud.

They end up window shopping a little and then sit at the food court as it's already late and he mentions treating themselves to something they really miss about Earth. She's not that hungry but lets him walk her around the food court until they've decided that a pizza and some ice cream afterwards would be just what they need. They settle at a table for two in a quiet corner and share their meal and a conversation. They talk about nothing in particular as they usually do on Atlantis when one joins the other on the balcony.

"I miss our balcony," she can't help mentioning as they share their ice cream, digging their spoon in the same cup. He looks at her wistfully and setting his spoon aside, grabs her free hand in both of his. "Hey, we're going back. And we'll have many, many more conversations on our balcony." On second thoughts, he adds, dabbing a drop of ice cream on her nose: "but we won't have ice cream! So seize the day!"

She laughs, glad the day is off to such a good start after all.

They stroll to the coffee shop and she insists on treating him after he paid for their food. They bicker a little. "Please?" she almost begs.

"Independent much, are we?" he remarks playfully.

"Only true to my words, John. I said I was buying. Remember?" she raises an eyebrow to make her point.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting, and lets her have her way because it makes her happy.

They take their coffee with them and walk arm in arm, looking at the windows.

"You didn't tell me what you needed to buy?" he mentions after a while as he drops their cups in a bin.

"Mainly clothes. Comfortable things I can wear when I'm in my room. I know it seems vain, but I still need things of my own and not just the government-issue uniforms we wear."

He's surprised. This is a part of her he doesn't know about. He always sees her in uniform. He was taken aback this morning at seeing her wearing those tight-fitting jeans and the leather jacket. They're not used to seeing each other in anything else but their work clothes tho' she's already seen him running around the city with Ronon, dressed in sportswear. She too has noticed his civilian clothes today. He's wearing jeans that fit him too well, she reflects and starts blushing at the thought, a well-worn leather jacket he might have inherited from his years as a pilot and a blue shirt that compliments his eyes.

He sees the blush but takes it as a reluctance to take him in the stores with her. "If you need to be alone while you shop, I can make myself sparse and join you later on," he offers.

"Would that be more convenient to you?" she asks, not wanting to impose on him.

"This is not what I meant, 'Lizabeth." He winces. "I just want to give you space. But if you don't mind me coming with you, I'd love to." There. He's said it. He hopes it's not too forward. On second thoughts, he asks her so.

She laughs and tugs at his arm. "Come on, Major, let's see if you'll feel as comfortable as you sound once you enter the fitting room area!" She winks at him and he feels himself blush at the thought. He doesn't know what it is about his boss but tho' she's always been very forward and friendly and sometimes even teasing with him, today, she seems to have decided to unwind. He thinks of boundaries and rules and regulations and shakes his head. He decides he reads too much into all this and mentally slaps himself.

She chides herself for being such a tease. She knows there are boundaries. She knows General O'Neill would not leave them unprotected while on Earth so they're bound to have agents protecting them and watching them. She just hopes what they see is not going to raise suspicions. She can't lie to herself. Seen from another perspective, they do look very friendly to each other today. She crosses her fingers and decides that for the time being, they're entitled to a little bit of fun, after all they've been through.

She finally buys a few things here and there, spending as little time as possible in the fitting room. He patiently waits outside and even once goes to find another size. He does it as if it were the most normal thing in the world – spending time with her in stores. She graces him with a smile and kiss on his cheek as they leave the fitting room area of the last store and before they are in plain view.

He looks almost shocked but pleased. "What was that for?" he still inquires.

"For being so patient."

"Really, it was nothing. You never waver when choosing, you're really efficient. You're the perfect girl!" he banters then realizes it might sound like he's coming on her. His look drops to his shoes as they stroll towards the cashier.

"And you're Mr Right!" she banters back, seeing his unease. He looks up and beams at her as she pays for her purchase. "It seems like you've had a rough time with girls and stores. I do appreciate you decided to come anyway," she adds, taking the bags from his hand.

"I can carry that, you know?" he offers.

"Marry me?" The joke is out before she can take it back. She blushes. "Sorry," she adds hurriedly. "It sounded like something fun to say. I'm a moron!"

He laughs out loud and takes the bags from her. "I'll carry your bags free of charge, dear. But if you want to marry me, I'm all for it!" he adds teasingly. "And you're not a moron. That was indeed funny. I hope the guys from Homeworld have that on tape. I might borrow it from them when I feel gloomy."

She looks shocked. "You know?"

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Of course I know! Do you really believe they would leave us on our own while we're here and risk having us kidnapped?" He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly.

"I guess not. So, if they have that on tape, we're in trouble, right?" she wonders aloud. She was so stupid! She didn't think for once. She just loosened up and there they were, just because she had a moment of distraction!

He tugs her to him and looks right into her eyes. "Stop worrying. Jack O'Neill is Homeworld Security and believe me if I say we're safe with him. In all the senses of the term. He'd never do something to harm us because of that. He knows how hard it is to have a normal life with our jobs, right? And besides, do you really think they'd discipline us for taking time for ourselves for once when we're not on duty? We're too valuable for that,'" he adds, with a good dose of cynicism in his voice.

She sighs and nods in approval. "You're right. But, still, it was stupid," she apologizes.

"Sure it was!" he teases her as he tugs her along towards the next stores. "I could have said yes!"

They end up in front of a store selling coffee machines, those ones where you only need to put a pod in it to get fresh coffee in no time. She sees him look wistfully at the thing. He's like a child in a toy store. "Do you want to go inside?" she offers.

"Na," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand that doesn't succeed in hiding his true desire – to get in there and try the thing.

It's her turn to tug at his arm. She walks him to the machine. "My mother has one of these," she coaxes him. "It's wonderful. You don't need to clean it afterwards. Just throw the pod in the bin. And you can have all sorts of coffee," she adds, showing him a catalogue.

He sighs. "See, 'Lizabeth, that's the thing I really miss when we're on Atlantis. Good coffee. The one in the cafeteria is OK. I mean, it's barely so."

"Well, you could always replace it with tea, you know," she teases him, observing him from the corner of her eye.

"Now, there's no way you're gonna make me drink that thing! That's just hot water to me. You should be ashamed of even suggesting it," he answers more vehemently than he had imagined.

"Watch it, John! You're being disrespectful!" She wags her finger at him and for a moment he thinks he's gone too far then he sees the smile she's trying to hide. "You're impossible!" he chides.

"Sorry," she laughs. "I couldn't help it! Now, why don't we get serious for a moment. I have a purchase to make. Black or red?" she inquires.

He looks at her in dismay. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, John. Which one do you want?" she insists patiently.

"You want to buy me a machine?"

"Yep! There are perks to being the leader of an expedition. I get to carry way more things than you do. So I'm treating everyone to a little something. You were the last one on my list." He lifts an eyebrow to mock her at the use of little. She ignores him and turns to the salesperson. "We'll take the red one, thank you." She turns to him and adds: "I'll have the pods delivered to my mom's place before we go so it can be packed with my belongings but do you think you can carry this to the car?" she asks, showing him the machine's box.

"You're kidding, right?" he asks anyway, tho' he can see her paying for it already.

"No, I'm not. Coffee makes you happy. You'll get as much as you want, as long as the pods last. I'll have enough packed for some time and if need be, I'll ask for more when we get special deliveries by ship," she elaborates, winking at him, not wanting to refer to the Daedalus by its name.

"You're offering me a coffee machine?" He cannot believe his eyes. This is such a sweet gesture. So like her, actually. She always thinks of others, pampering her team, tho' he knows she can be tougher than most men if she needs to.

"Enjoy!" she says, as she hands him the box. "There might be a glitch, tho'," she adds teasingly. He watches her cautiously, waiting for the second shoe to drop. "If it's in your office, you might see me a lot more than you're used to, or than you might want to, as a matter of fact!"

He follows her towards the parking lot. "Be careful, Dr Weir. I might get used to seeing you more often. In fact, I might decide to leave the machine in your office so you won't be able to evade me. This all thing might come back to bite you back!"

She smirks but doesn't stop until they've reached the car. He puts the bags and box in the trunk and closes it then he bends towards her and brushes his lips on her cheek. "Thank you, 'Lizabeth," he simply says then holds the passenger door open for her to get in. She sighs with content as he rounds the car. It was indeed a really good day.

He drives her back to her mom's and takes the bags inside.

"Thank you for this wonderful day, John. It was fun." They smile at each other.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" he asks tentatively. He shuffles on his feet, suddenly uneasy. He might be crossing boundaries there.

She observes him a for a while, pondering. Are they going too far? Are they too friendly? Is it going to be too difficult for them when they return to Atlantis and their positions and need to act accordingly?

"John..." her voice trails off and he immediately takes it as a rebutal. He lifts his hands up in surrender, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, that's fine. Actually, you know what? I'd love to accept your invitation," she says with a smile.

"You don't think it will be a problem?" he insists. "I don't want you to say yes to humor me."

"John, I don't see why humoring you would be a problem. You humored me enough today. And before you say anything else, humoring is not pitying. I'd very much like to spend more time with you. We're entitled to enjoying a good meal and the conversation of a good friend, aren't we?"

"Pep talking me again, eh?" he lifts his eyebrow the way she does and she laughs.

"That too! If one day I had been told I'd have to boost your self-esteem, I would have laughed at the notion." She licks her lips briefly, eyeing him. "Seriously, John. An evening out is exactly what I need and probably what you need too. I still have a few errands to run and also quite a few phone calls to return and then I'm all yours. Why don't you come and pick me up around six. You pick the place. Whatever you like will be OK with me. Alright?" she looks him in the eye as she sees him pondering his answer. He lifts his hand but she beats him to it and ruffles his hair playfully. "There! Now, your answer, Major?" she says, crossing her arms on her chest.

He nods silently then reaches out to her hair and tugs a loose strand behind her ear. "Six o'clock. Be ready. I hate women who are late!" he says over his shoulder as he walks to the door.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He's taken her to a nice, cosy Italian restaurant downtown that sports a terrace in front and since it's early fall and still warm outside they've opted in favor of staying out and enjoying a meal by the lights of the paper lanterns hanging above the small round tables. They fall into comfortable silence while waiting for their expressos and both get lost in their thoughts – both enjoying a meal when there's no sudden emergency relayed on their earpieces, both enjoying each other's presence without having to worry about what everyone thinks. They're strangers here but John finally sees the silver lining. Here they can just be friends. There's no one to set the example for. He smiles at her. "We still have a couple of days to ourselves. Have you planned anything?"

She smiles too. "Are you telling me you're playing it as you go along? A week on Earth once in a blue moon and you don't have plans, Major?" she teases him.

"Told ya' already – bored stiff. Would kill for a good fight with a few nasty aliens," he banters, giving her a toothy smile.

She laughs out loud and shakes her head. "Not even a trip to the library to get something else to read?" she baits him. She knows about his inability to finish the one and only book he brought with him. Not that he's not educated. She suspects he knows much more than he lets on. No, it's just he never seems to have time to himself, working as hard as she does. She does connect to his difficulty in adjusting to the mere idea of having some downtime.

"I already did, actually," he surprises her. "Went to get a few easier novels I know I might be able to finish by the end of this decade." He smirks.

"Let me guess," she teases. "Some sappy romantic story?"

He chuckles. "You know me well, don't you? Seriously, tho', I got a few good adventure ones if you want to borrow them."

She rests her head on her hand and smiles at him mischievously. "You could even start a book club, Major, and become the very first Oprah of the Pegasus galaxy!"

He tucks his tongue at her. "Minx!"

She frowns. "Careful, John! You're addressing your superior, remember!"

He wags his finger at her and smirks irreverently. "Not here, 'Lizabeth, not here! I have a few more hours ahead of me to prove you wrong."

She shakes her head in mock disbelief and turns her attention to the waiter who's setting their expressos in front of them then falls silent again and he sees she's pondering something. He waits patiently until she makes her decision. "John? What are you doing tomorrow around noon?"

He lifts his head and narrows his eyes at her.

He ponders his answer, not wanting to say "nothing" but then again, not wanting to miss an occasion to spend time with her. "I haven't decided yet. Why?"

She takes a deep breath. She might regret this for tons of reasons but still decides to plod on. "My mother has organized a barbecue at her place for people I know – friends of hers, some distant family members, neighbors... Would you like to come?"

He eyes her suspiciously. "BBQ? Or is it more like a garden party?"

She winces. "Let's say it's a little bit of both..." Her voice trails off. He seems to be the kind of man who shuns that kind of gathering – too many people, too many rules. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. It was stupid of me to ask. Forget about it."

He lifts his hand to stop her. "Hush, 'Lizabeth. You asked me and I say yes, as long as I don't have to wear a tie." She shakes her head. "Then, it's settled. I'll be at your place at noon and I promise to behave." He smirks. She mirrors him.

He stands and tells her he'll be right back and goes to pay for their meals. She watches him stroll inside the restaurant and can't help noticing the casual, almost cocky gait that reminds her in a way of General O'Neill's. Those two definitely have a lot in common.

He walks her to her door when they reach her mother's place but declines going inside. "It's late already and tomorrow is another big day, eh? I'll let you rest," he says quietly. He hesitates then bends towards her, giving her time to step back if she thinks he's overstepping the boundaries. She doesn' t budge so he completes the gesture and drops a little kiss on her cheek, almost on the corner of her mouth. It's bold, even for friends, and he's not even sure she might consider him as such. She closes her eyes and he can barely hear her sigh before she opens them and reaches for his cheek, leaving a feather-like caress there then resting her hand on his bicep. "Goodnight, John," she simply says before opening the front door and stepping inside.

"Night," she hears him whisper before she closes the door.

He spends much more time the next morning than he usually does on choosing his clothes. Appearance has always been his father's strong suit, not his, but for her sake, he wants to look the part of the proper friend. He even ponders wearing his dress blues but opts out, thinking it might look show off. He finally decides to text her. "Something casual will be perfect. See you in a bit," she answers. She gathers from his text he's nervous and hopes he won't feel uncomfortable. She chides herself for putting him through it but then again, she's glad he'll be there by her side as she's nervous too. She has tried to bail out on the event but her mother wouldn't hear of it. "I'm doing this for you, sweetie. I'm sure once everyone's arrived, you'll be glad we did it. It's nice to see old friends once in a while. You work too much, my dear. Besides, I don't want you to feel lonely now Simon is not here anymore to welcome you home," her mom points out. She means well but the thought itself stings anyway.

"Mom..." she moans.

Her mother lifts her hand. "I know, dear, it hurts but you need to move on and the best way to do that is to have a social life."

She humors her because she knows how much time she's put into that party and she's done it just to keep her busy and take her mind off the hurt. She just wishes no one will bring up her breakup with Simon, especially in front of John. He doesn't need to know how miserable she is. She tells her mom who agrees she'll steer the conversations away from the subject tho' she can't stop people from talking. "But dear, I understand you do not want to have everyone at work know about it but this young man, this Major Sheppard, he seems to be a good friend of yours – taking you out for shopping and dining..."

"Mom, don't read too much into this. At work, he's my subordinate. He cannot be anything else but a friend, and even that... I'm not sure it isn't against the rules." She winces. It hurts to voice it out but she needs to be realistic. Her mother shakes her head in disappointment but says no more.

She puts on a front as she's so used to doing when on diplomatic missions, being graceful to all the guests she welcomes one by one and directs to the garden where her mother has had the tables set under white pergolas. Deep inside, she can't wait for the day to be over so she can retreat to her room, curl up under her comforter and try to find sleep that won't be ridden with nightmares. She hasn't slept well and has dark circles under her eyes she cannot thoroughly hide. Most of the guests have arrived. Her mother has dragged her out into the garden tho' she protested there were still a few people missing. "I will welcome them, dear. You need to be with your guests, not waiting at the door." So she is standing among them, a glass of ice tea left untouched in her hand. She's trying to follow the conversations but her mind is somewhere else. She feels a hand at the small of her back, a gentle and shy touch. She turns to him and gazes into his mischivous grin.

"Good day to you, ma'am," he says, opting for an almost formal greeting, not knowing how she's going to introduce him. The weight she's felt all morning, ever since she's awaken from her fitful dreams, suddenly lifts. Even on the hardest days they've had on the city, he's always been the only one to have the privilege to brighten her mood.

She turns to him and smiles, breaking the contact of his hand on her back but gives him a loose hug with her free arm. "Good day to you too, Major," she answers with a grin and he gets it that this is going to be the game they'll play for now. She turns to her other guests and introduces him as a colleague. When introductions have been made and a few platitudes have been exchanged, she excuses them from the group and takes him to the bar to offer him a drink. "What's your poison?" he whispers conspiratorially in her ear.

"Ice tea," she challenges him.

He turns to the waiter: "I'll have the same." They stroll together from table to table, talking briefly to people.

"Do you want to see the house?" she offers on a whim.

He nods and she takes his arm, steering him towards the open French windows.

They move around the house in silence, except for her occasional remark about how her mom decorated this or that room or on a few trinkets she's fond of because they belonged to her dad. He just nods and lends a friendly ear, observing her. When they get back downstairs, he steers her towards the couch facing the fireplace and sits in front of her on the coffee table. She's bemused by the look of intent concentration on his face, almost as if he were mad at her. "What?" she finally demands, feeling uncomfortable.

"You're not sleeping, Elizabeth. You should be resting, damn it! God knows you need it more than any one of us!" he says through clenched teeth, surprising her by his sudden anger.

"You're one to talk, John! You pull as many hours as I do," she counters, getting angry at him for voicing it out and probably at herself too, for letting it show.

"But at least, I'm sleeping while on Earth. You're not!" he counters back, his eyes boring into hers.

She falls silent and looks away. He raises his hands to her face and gently brushes the dark circles under her eyes with his thumbs. It's one of too many bold gestures but she doesn't say a thing and remains still. What have they done to her 2IC, she wonders. He would never have been so forward on Atlantis and she would never have allowed for it anyway. But here, everything seems so different, the boundaries so hazy... "Why aren't you cutting yourself some slack, 'Lizabeth? You're not on duty here," he points out more sedately.

She finally locks eyes with him. "Because I can't... Because when I close my eyes, I see them. Every evil thing we encountered, everyone we've lost. I see myself waiting for our teams, for you, to come home safely, hoping, praying nothing bad will happen to you, to any of you. And I wake up every night screaming. And then I can't go back to sleep for hours. And even when I do, the nightmares still come to haunt me..." She's said it in one go, in a whisper, and he's not interrupted her even once, letting her voice out what has been haunting her, that thing he's sure she doesn't even talk about with Dr Heitmeyer. He's humbled that he's been the one whom she's opened up to about her worst fears. He takes her hands in his. "You can't go on like that forever. You're going to get sick. You need to sleep." He's stating the facts and she can't prove him wrong so she just smiles bitterly.

"Well, John, I wouldn't say no to a few good nights' sleep so if you've got a solution, I'm all for it!" she answers more sarcastically than she intended.

"Well, actually, I do," he surprises her. "I'll stay here tonight if you allow me and watch your sleep. If you have nightmares, I'll help you settle them before they disturb your rest."

She looks at him too amazed to say anything. They can't do that. What would the IOA say if they knew he'd spent time with her in the same room. Not that she questions John's intentions. She knows they're purely honorable. "John..." she starts but doesn't know how to let him down easy.

They're interrupted by a soft rap on the French windows opened onto the garden. Her mother is smiling fondly at her. "Sorry to bother you, love," she tells her daughter. "A certain General O'Neill just called. He said Doctor Beckett was trying to locate you. I hope you don't mind. I said it was OK for him to give our home phone number to the doctor so he could contact you..." Her voice trails off, unsure. Her daughter is not really open about her work relations, even John Sheppard, and she hopes she hasn't made a blunder.

John and Elizabeth share a look. Why is General O'Neill himself calling them himself for such petty matters? "Is something wrong with Doctor Beckett, mother?"

"Not at all, my dear, as I gathered. He seems to be in the area, said General O'Neill, and wanted to know if he could drop by."

"Well, it seems the good doctor is already bored of his beloved lochs!" John ironizes, making Elizabeth laugh.

It's later during the afternoon and most of the guests have departed. John finds a moment alone with Laura Weir. He doesn't know how to broach the subject. He knows from experience that in such families, propriety matters more than anything and he doesn't want to shock her, staying overnight without being invited, especially if she realizes he intends to stay in her daughter's room, albeit on a chair. He leaves Elizabeth's side as she walks the last guests to their cars and heads towards the kitchen where Laura is giving instructions to the hired staff. He leans his shoulder against the door and waits for the right time to get her attention. She turns to him and smiles. "Well, John, it wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" she teases him. She has nailed him all right, knowing he's not the type to appreciate that kind of gathering. She knows by instinct that he must come from a well-educated family but doesn't prod tho' she can't help the teasing.

He smirks. "You're right. It was a pretty good day," he simply acknowledges.

"You want to tell me about something, don't you?"

He nods. "Yes, ma'am. It's about your daughter." She nods too and waits for him to elaborate. He sighs, not knowing how to put it and decides there are no two ways to do this. Elizabeth might come back any minute. "Have you noticed she is sleep-deprived?" he asks shyly. He doesn't want to sound as if he might accuse her of not knowing.

She tilts her head. "Are you talking about her nightmares, John? Because I'm very well aware of them, Major. She's had plenty of those ever since she got here and before you mention it, yes, I can see she doesn't sleep a lot." She regards him silently for a few seconds then goes on, her eyes trained on him: "I have tried every single trick I know to get her to sleep but she's a grown woman, not a child anymore. She refuses to see a doctor or even talk to me about it. She said she has strong medication she refuses to take because it gets worse when she does. I don't have a solution. Do you, Major?"

The question is blunt but it's the opportunity he's waiting for. "I'm not sure, ma'am, but I'd like you to allow me to at least try..." She motions for him to go on when he hesitates. "May I stay with her tonight. Not what you think," he adds hurriedly and she chuckles at his unease, having sized up the kind of man he is. "I'd like to stay by her side. I'll sit next to her and if she so much as stirs, I'll help her try and get rid of her nightmare." Here, he's said it, it's up to her to decide now. It's her house and he doesn't feel comfortable forcing it on her, even if it's for Elizabeth's own good.

"You know what's in her nightmares, don't you?" she states. He nods. "She doesn't want to tell me about it. Says it's classified. I understand. But if it's something you're familiar with, maybe you'll be able to help her."

"Who's going to help whom?" Elizabeth inquires as she enters the kitchen, a tray in her hands.

"John is staying here tonight, dear," her mother states coolly, taking the tray from her and setting it on the island top.

The doorbell chimes and her mother leaves them in the kitchen to answer it, wondering aloud who might be coming at this time of day.

Elizabeth uses that alone moment to hiss at him: "You talked my mother into this? How did you do that?"

"I just came clean about my intentions," he says, a look of absolute innocence on his face. She lifts an eyebrow at him but is interrupted by her mother's return with a very unexpected guest.

"Carson! What are you doing here?" John exclaims, shaking hands with the doctor and slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.

Elizabeth narrows her eyes at the three of them. "Mother, what's going on here?" she demands curtly. She's had plenty of very unpleasant remarks by quite a few acquaintances today about her seemingly exhausted state. A visit by the good doctor, especially when they're all supposed to be on down time, is not a good sign.

"Doctor Beckett had an early flight to join you all tomorrow for the reunion you have in the morning as I gathered," she replies calmly, looking towards Beckett for confirmation.

He nods and turns to Elizabeth with a wide smile. "It was either coming in very early or being really late for the meeting so I prefered to be on the safe side. I thought I might drop by to see if everything was alright but I was heading to my hotel and your mother kindly offered to accommodate me for the night, which is awfully nice of her," he adds, turning to Laura and squeezing her hand.

She looks at each of them, bemused. Something is obviously off but she can't put her finger to it. "And you're absolutely not here to keep on eye on me or anything, Carson?" she prods, anger suddenly flaring.

He laughs at the notion. "Now, Elizabeth, relax! I'm officially on vacation until tomorrow morning. If there's one thing I intend to do it is precisely nothing!"

She sighs, relieved. "Well, good! 'Cuz I intend to do nothing either!"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

They have a light dinner, the four of them, and then Laura shows Carson his room as he's voiced out his intention to hit the sack early. Elizabeth and John stay on the couch a little longer, looking at the fire, a mug of hot chocolate in their hands. "Mom says it's going to get cold tomorrow. Today was probably the last day of Indian summer. They're even talking about fog on the weather forecast." He smiles at her. "I can't wait to be home," she adds, smiling back.

"And yet you have nightmares precisely because of home," he can't help noticing.

She shrugs. "Yes, but the ocean often lulls me to sleep. And for some reason, I feel safer there." She shakes her head. "I don't know. Might be the presence of those flyboys," she teases. The corner of his lips turns up and his eyes twinkle.

"Or could be the shield and all our state-of-the-art, really, really cool equipment," he adds, smirking. She beams at him. He stands and offers his hand to her, which she takes but relunctantly stands too. "But right now, you have your own personal flyboy to defend your sleep, my lady." He bows to her and motions for her to head towards the stairs. He feels a pang of grief at the thought of leaving the cosiness of the fireplace area and heading towards where she knows she's bound to have nightmares. He can tell she's dragging herself to her room and knows she's dreading the moment she'll wake up with a start, her eyes wide with fear. He tugs her gently inside her room. "I'll let you get ready for the night. Your mother lent me a few toiletries. They're in the room opposite yours. I'll go and brush my teeth. Come and get me when you're ready for bed."

He leaves the room quietly and she goes through the motions of preparing for the night, trying not to think too much. John and herself spend a lot of time together when on Atlantis but she rationalizes it's for the job. Here, it doesn't seem natural to have him – and Carson – under her roof. And they have never ever slept in the same room before. She's still musing about it when she realizes she should not make him wait and goes to knock on his door. He smiles at her when she enters and follows her to her room. He's still wearing his pants and shirt but has removed his jacket.

"I feel bad about you staying up all night for me. Maybe you should go back to your hotel and get some sleep," she pleads guiltily.

"And I feel bad for not realizing earlier how much you needed this. Now get into bed asap," he orders, settling in the armchair she keeps in the farthest corner of her room for when she wants to read late at night.

She relunctantly does what she's being told because she's so bone tired and turns on her side towards him. "Close your eyes, Elizabeth. I'll be right here and watch your sleep." He sees her eyes blink a few times then she snuggles deeper into her bed.

"Goodnight, John," she mumbles before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Carson is awaken with a start by a shrieking voice that can only be Elizabeth's. He rushes to her door and doesn't bother knocking before entering. John, still fully dressed, is holding a shaking Elizabeth in his arms, one hand rubbing wide, soothing circles on her back while his other hand is holding her head in the crook of his neck. His mouth is in her hair, making shushing sounds in her ear. "Is OK, 'Lizabeth," he's whispering reassuringly. "I got you. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here all night. You're going to be OK." Carson realizes Laura has reached the door too and is observing them, not daring to enter. John lifts his head, still holding Elizabeth against him. "She's gonna be OK," he mouthes. "You can go back to sleep."

Carson ponders checking her blood pressure, just to be on the safe side, but Laura tugs at his arm and gently closes the door. "Come on, apparently Major Sheppard knows what he's doing. No need for you too to be sleep-deprived when you have a long day ahead of you."

John waits for her breathing to get even and then tries to lay her back into bed but she doesn't want to let go. "Please, stay with me," she pleads.

He sighs and kicks off his shoes then, untangling himself from her, goes to sit on the bed next to her. Her eyes are still wide with fear and he takes pity on her, taking hold of her hand. "There, I'm right here, not letting you go. Now, please, sleep," he pleads too. She settles back under the covers except for her hand still wrapped in his and slowly drifts off to sleep.

The early morning light is filtering through the windows and she blinks a couple of times, her mind not yet processing where she is. She suddenly sits up in alarm when she remembers the events of the night and realizes she's alone in bed. "Wow, hey, calm down, I'm right here," she hears him say hurriedly as he joins her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She tries to breathe in and out to slow her heart rate but seeing it's to no avail, he starts rubbing circles on her back as he did last night and she leans into him, allowing herself to rest her forehead on his shoulder. "It's 6. I have to up and leave if I want to get back to my hotel and change and still be on time for the meeting. I'm sorry I woke you up," he whispers. She lifts her head and watches him stand. "You're not staying for breakfast," she says, disappointment palpable in her voice.

He winces. "Sorry. Can't do," he apologizes, heading for the door. "Go back to sleep. I'll let myself out."

She doesn't want to sound like a whiny five-year-old so she nods and snuggles back into bed but simply stares into the distance and after half an hour or so, decides to get up. She's thankful for the few restful hours she's had and takes them as a blessing, guessing she might not have any more of these in the near future.

She's sitting at the conference table when he enters, a mug in each hand and heads towards her, setting one of them in front of her. "Morning, Dr Weir," he simply says before sitting next to her.

"Good morning, John." He sees the shadow of a smile on her lips and knows she's OK for now and feels content with it, knowing he made the right decision after all. She looks healthier than she did yesterday.

She can't help but steal glances at him during the meeting. He looks tired and she feels guilty. He stayed up all night just because of her. "I shouldn't have let you stay," she scribbles on the pad sitting between them. He takes the pen from her hand and scribbles back: "Not your call." And draws a tongue-tucking smiley. She can't help shaking her head and discreetly rolls her eyes at him, making him pull his trademark smug look. The meeting is long but uneventful as most has already been decided and they're only being debriefed before heading back to Atlantis. They share a few more thoughts on the pad and a few amused glances at Rodney's technobabble and General O'Neill's obvious epidermic reaction. Elizabeth doesn't seem to notice it but he does – the glances the General shoots them every now and then.

When the meeting is over and everyone files out of the room to head to the commissary, he hears the General calling him curtly. "A word, Colonel." He's just been notified this morning his promotion was effective as of today. He should be happy about it but winces at the tone used to utter his new rank. Now, what else has he done, especially to piss off a man like him. Caldwell, he can understand. The guy is a consistent douche. But O'Neill? That can't be good. He turns around. O'Neill motions for him to sit.

"Sir?" he asks, his eyes trained on him.

O'Neill sighs and sits in front of him, obviously embarrassed. "Listen, John. I have a deep respect for what you've done on Atlantis and I was all for it when Dr Weir recommanded you for a promotion..."

"I sense a but, Sir," Sheppard encourages him.

"OK, son, let's not beat about the bush... But I wouldn't want you to waste all those efforts and be relieved from your position." John lifts his eyebrows at that. What did he do to get such a warning, dare he think threat?

O'Neill winces and finishes what's on his mind. "But I'm not going to save your and Dr Weir's ass every time you two break the chain of command, like I did last night," he clarifies. "Thank God Carson was available or how would have you accounted for your presence at Elizabeth's mother's? You two aren't supposed to be seeing each other, damn it!"

John looks at him bemused then anger takes over. He slaps his hand disrespectfully on the conference table and stands abruptly but seeing O'Neill's warning look, sobers up quickly. "We are not, Sir. And we aren't breaking the chain of command either. With all due respect, I wonder who put this stupid idea in your head... Sir!" he adds but the glare in his eyes and the sarcastic tone he's used bely his use of the respectful word.

O'Neill stands too and rounds the table. He's toe to toe with Sheppard and for a few agonising seconds, John is led to believe that he'll never make the trip back home. O'Neill lays a paternal hand on his shoulder. "Son, I'm not threatening you, just warning you. You should be aware that people are watching you, both here and on Atlantis."

John nods. "I'm well-aware of that, Sir," he replies bitterly.

O'Neill drops his hand. "Well then, act in accordance! Or soon, I'll get a report I cannot ignore. This time, I did my best to help you but I won't always be there. You cannot spend time in the same house, lest in the same room!"

Sheppard winces. "Well, Sir, about that..."

O'Neill stops him with a raised hand. "I know. And I understand. She is having a hard time and you're being a good friend and a gentleman. But you have to be careful. If anyone realizes you two spend time in her quarters or yours... I strongly advise you to find a viable solution or put an end to all this."

"I get it, Sir, but if my presence helps her sleep how can I possibly deny her that comfort?" he plods on, bordering on disrespect.

O'Neill rolls his eyes. "I'm not telling you to not help a friend in need. I'm telling you to be sensible. Period."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She's sensed it every since they've boarded the Daedalus, how he keeps away from her, avoiding most of the closeness they've shared for almost the very beginning of the expedition, even eye contact. They met briefly late at night before the whole bug in the Daedalus thing, but it's not the way it used to be. She could bet her life on it – he's shunning her and she doesn't understand what she's done wrong. It tugs at her heart like almost nothing else can. It's probably made even worse because of how her relationship with Simon has been abruptly put to an end. But then again, Simon is not there, will never be and John has become her constant, her anchor, like Atlantis has. She can't imagine her life without him. That's why she's fought so hard to keep him. But now, now it's like he's trying to avoid her at all costs, seemingly leaving a room when she enters, avoiding her gaze when she tries to talk to him, making excuses to be on the other side of the ship.

She hasn't had a decent night of sleep ever since that last night on Earth at her mom's with John by her side. She's relinquished all hopes of sleeping without being jolted awake after only an hour or so, drenched in sweat, her heart beating like it was going to stop, her breathing labored and her eyes wild with fear at the visions that haunt her. She's started having nightmares about him suddenly not being part of her universe, as if no one knew he'd ever existed in their reality.

She's tried seeking him out but he evades her every single time. She's hardly slept for the last three or four days, catching a few minutes of rest at the most. When she realizes she's too afraid to try and fall asleep anymore, she leaves her quarters and heads for the commissary. He's pouring himself some coffee as she enters and when he sees her approach, he gives her a tense smile and heads for the door. "Excuse me," he says curtly as she blocks his way out. The look of disappointment and reproach she sends him is the last straw. He can tell she's exhausted and strained and also for some reason he prefers to ignore, miserable. He doesn't know what happened to her during their stay but her mother has been abundantly clear about her counting on him to keep an eye on her.

 _He's tiptoed to the front door, not wanting to wake anybody else. He'll drive his car to the hotel, have a shower, pack and if given any more time, have some breakfast before heading to the airport. She and Carson will join him there._

" _Not starting the day with a hearty breakfast is not healthy, if I may say, Mr Sheppard." He turns and sees Laura Weir, standing in the hallway, a steaming mug in her hand. She's already dressed at this early hour and he can see light filtering from the kitchen door that has been left ajar._

 _He plasters a smile on his face and rubs his stubble. "Sorry ma'am, but I don't have the time for one."_

" _Sure of that? 'Cos coffee is ready and I've just baked overnight cinnamon rolls," she adds enticingly. "I can fill a traveler's mug and pack you a couple of rolls for the road..."_

 _He relents and quirks a smile at her. "You sure know how to speak to a man, ya' know," he banters before heading her way. "I'm sorry if my morning manners suck. I need to be on time for our flight and I still need to pack. All this," he adds, meaning his staying at her place for the night, "was not planned."_

 _She smiles fondly at him and motions for him to follow her. "I won't be long, John. I just have one request. While I pack your coffee and rolls, would you mind listening to me? There are a few things I'd like to tell you."_

Before he can act upon it, she sighs and relents, stepping aside to let him pass. "'Lizabeth, listen," he starts but she refuses to look him in the eye and when he steps closer, she evades him.

"Just let me go, John. I can understand now you've been promoted and have General O'Neill's favors, you don't need mine anymore," she says bitterly. "Just go!" she adds, motioning to the door. "I need some alone time, if you don't mind." She turns her back on him and heads for the coffee pot. Her hand is already on a mug when she feels him standing right behind her.

"Who put that stupid idea in your head, 'Lizabeth?" he but growls in frustration.

She doesn't turn, not daring to move, knowing if she does she'll have to look him in the eyes. "As if it were not true! At least be honest about it!" she replies through clenched teeth, keeping the tears at bay – for now.

He lays his hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off impatiently. "It is not, damn it! That is the most preposterous idea I've ever heard. You know me, don't you? How could you possibly think me capable of such betrayal!"

She finally turns and snaps at him, anger flaring, eyes now red and swollen with tears of frustration and pain. "Well then, John, explain to me why you've been avoiding me since even before we boarded the Daedalus? And don't tell me it's not true cuz I have eyes, you know."

"That you do," he answers with a cocky smirk he can't contain. As if anybody could ignore those eyes! He knows everything about them – how they twinkle with delight when she sees her favorite dessert in the commissary, that sparkle in them when she looks at him and he dares hope is for him only, sometimes the underlying threat he can detect when he dares challenge her, but now all he sees is hurt and anger, something she's never ever directed at him before.

She could slap him for that remark. How dare he flirt with her in a moment like that! He lifts his hands in surrender. "Sorry, didn't mean to. It was out before I realized how stupid it sounded," he cringes. She crosses her arms to give herself some countenance but says nothing so he plods on. "And I'm sorry if you've felt like I was shunning you. I wasn't. I was... busy," he adds sheepishly, hoping this will suffice to swart her wrath and put an end to this very awkward discussion before someone comes across them.

She uncrosses her arms and stomps to the door. "Damn it, John!"

He grabs her arm. "Wait! Please, don't go. We're friends. We shouldn't fight like this."

She turns to him and snatches her arm from his grasp. "I thought we were, John. Obviously, one of my many errors of judgement when it comes to men," she says bitterly.

Tears are falling freely now from her eyes. He's never seen her cry before – not even in their saddest moments. She's always held it all in, been the one everybody could count on in her city. What's happened to her that could make her snap like this? He knows he shouldn't and it's against his better judgement that he steps forward and before she can push him away, wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him. "Hush, it's gonna be OK. Please don't cry. I'm not going to abandon you." He's whispering in her ear, one of his hands rubbing soothingly on her back, the other in her hair.

She wants to push him away, she does, to prove to him she doesn't need him. She needs to be strong. She's the leader after all. What will he think of her if she starts crying on his shoulder. He's already seen too much vulnerability from her on Earth. She can't allow it to happen on the job. She just tells herself she needs a few more seconds before she can look him in the eyes and tell him to go to hell.

"Hey, I won't think less of you because you show me how hurt you are – it's our feelings that make us human. It's not a fault, 'Lizabeth." She doesn't push him away but she doesn't move either. "Let go. Please. For once. We're friends, Dr Weir, aren't we? I would never hurt you," he adds.

She lifts her head and smiles at him bitterly. "You already have," she just says and those three words are a dagger to his heart. It's precisely what he's been trying so hard to avoid.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, pulling her even closer. He kisses her forehead. "It was never my intention. Quite the contrary."

Her eyes are boring holes into his own, trying to grasp what he's telling her. He knows he'll have to come clean and the sooner the better, like ripping off a band-aid. He secures his grasp on her gently and kisses her forehead once more. "I shouldn't be doing that. We shouldn't even have this conversation. General O'Neill was adamant about it. You and I can't be friends, can't be anything, 'Lizabeth. I'm your 2IC. We should only have professional conversations. We shouldn't see each other for any other reasons. If anyone has any inkling that we're more than just the leader and military commander of Atlantis, we'll get the sack. I can't let this happen. You like this city too much. And she loves you too."

Understanding dawns on her and she pulls herself from his embrace and starts to pace to clear her mind. "You're telling me that you've kept me at arms' length so no one would know we're friends? You got to be kidding me, right?! Right, John?!" she turns to him, glaring.

He looks sheepishly at her but does not relent. "You don't understand. If certain people know..."

She cuts him off impatiently. "But, John, the thing is people know! Everyone on Atlantis knows we're friends and has come to accept it."

"Not everyone, 'Lizabeth," he corrects her.

She huffs. "Yeah, well, you know, I don't care about what Kavanaugh thinks. I won't have my personal life dictated by that pain in the neck," she growls. He smirks at her use of the offending words. She must be really pissed cuz that's so not her. "I know all about his so-called personal video to General O'Neill and I couldn't care less."

"That's not what the General said and as I gather, he knows a thing or two about rules and regulations. So if he says we must be careful, I'll take his word for it," he counters.

She stops pacing and comes to stand in front of him, invading his personal space. She shouldn't stand so close to him. Ever since he's spent that night in her room, holding her – no, scratch that. Ever since that time she took him by surprise and enveloped him in a warm embrace right in the middle of the stargate room, he cannot trust himself to remain indifferent. She's become his anchor too. "Wow," he chooses humor to hide his unease. "Don't slap me. I promise to be good."

She chuckles, relaxing a bit. "As it is, I know a thing or two about General O'Neill and his run down with regulations, John. I don't think he would be so cruel as to tell you to keep away from me, just because people might bitch on us. I don't know his exact words but didn't he tell you something about being careful?" She sees his eyes flicker with doubt. "I don't know about you, John, but I'm not going to let people in another galaxy dictate what I have to do in my everyday life in Pegasus. As we've learnt to know the hard way, tomorrow may or may not be. I won't let them spoil what precious moments we have." He's crossed his arms and she tugs at them, making him drop them by his sides and then comes closer and wraps her arms around him. "Every time you step through the gate I wonder if this is the last time I see you. Every time we're attacked I wonder if any of us will survive to live another day together. Please don't let them make us relinquish what we have. You're my best friend. My nights are plagued with horrible nightmares, yes, but when you're by my side, I can weather anything coming our way. But not alone, not if you keep me at arms' length."

He's always known that whatever she wanted, he'd fight to his death to give it to her. He can't deny her what little happiness he can give her – hell, he can give to himself. He wraps her in his arms. "We can't do that too often, you know."

She nods, her head tucked in the crook of his neck.

"We'll be careful," she promises. "Sneaky," she adds teasingly, making him chuckle. "I've missed you," she whispers.

"Ditto," he says, kissing her hair before giving her one final warm hug, his nose in her hair, his eyes closed, and stepping away from her.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They're sitting at a table with a mug each and their tablets, working in comfortable silence when Caldwell enters. "I was looking for you, Dr Weir," he greets her and nods curtly at John. It's no secret he doesn't like the flyboy for his seemingly inability to respect the chain of command but after the stunts he's pulled to save his ship he has to acknowledge he's some fine soldier. John nods too, his eyes trained on him, sizing him, wondering if they'll ever be able to trust the guy. He knows he's tried to take his job away from him and without Weir, he'd never have made it back to Atlantis.

"I've been made aware that you spend very little time in your quarters, Dr Weir. Is there a matter with them? We've still got almost a fortnight on board before we reach Atlantis. I wouldn't want you to be exhausted when you arrive," he adds, peering at her, his gaze trained on the dark circles under her eyes.

John and Elizabeth exchange a look. "Everything is fine, Colonel. It's just John and I need to work on a lot of different matters before we reach Atlantis and meeting here is much more comfortable. Our quarters are not close and not big enough anyway to host a work table." In spite of her earlier bravado, she's worried he might get personal and ask them some embarrassing questions. She doesn't trust the man either. She can see the corner of John's mouth turn up just a little and knows he's silently sniggering at her. _Ever the diplomat, 'Lizabeth, but oh how well do you master lies!_ He seems to tell her. She keeps a straight face as Caldwell sits next to them with a mug of steaming coffee.

"You should have told me, Dr Weir. It's really no incovenience to move both your quarters to another part of the ship so you can be next door. I'm afraid I won't have larger rooms to offer, tho'."

He seems eager to please and she'd bet on it he's trying to make it up to her for being such an ass at the SGC. She smiles at him. "Well, thank you, Colonel. That would indeed be much more convenient."

He stands and drains the last of his coffee. "Well, consider it done. I'm giving orders right away. If you two can wait half an hour, I'll have you settled tonight." He heads to the door bidding them goodnight.

She turns to John. "See, not such a bad day after all. And you can even come and kiss me goodnight," she adds cheekily before turning back her attention to her tablet.

He does indeed – come by and say goodnight. He's glad to see she's gotten ready for bed. "Cute pjs", he teases her but shuts up when he sees the slightest tinge of blushing on her cheeks. He could slap himself for being so clumsy. "Sorry," he cringes. "Don't pay attention to me. I'm a dork."

She laughs and rubs his arm affectionately. "It's OK. I agree – they're cute," she says, winking at him. "Have a good night, John."

"You too," he says, his voice low and comforting, as he bends towards her and kisses her cheek. "Yell if you need me. I'll be here in no time." He's said it without thinking. Damn, he's done it again. Not thinking about how she screams at night when she has her nightmares. He winces.

It's creepy how lifeless her eyes suddenly look and he knows she's thought about the same thing. "I'm sorry – again. Damn! It seems I spend my time hurting you these days." His jaw clenches. He waits for the second shoe to drop. She gives him a sad smile. "You don't. Actually, you're the only good thing that happened to me recently."

He winces. Her mom did hint at how hurt she was but never gave him details. He doesn't want to push. It's not his prerogative. Then, again, they've become even closer these last few days. "Lizabeth, I don't want to intrude but if there's something you want to talk about that would ease your mind and help you sleep better, you know I'm here, right?" he says, looking her straight in the eyes. She blushes and averts her gaze, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. He takes it as a no and steps back, ready to leave, not wanting to push it. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be there," he adds and turns to leave.

"Wait!" She rests her hand on his arm hesitantly. He turns and waits. She takes a deep breath. "Simon has left me," she simply says and falls silent, her eyes on him.

He studies her for a few seconds. He's not good with people, so how can he comfort her? Her eyes are brimming with tears now she's admitted it. "Boyfriend?" he asks.

"Companion. We'd been together for a while... He's met someone..." She sees his jaw tense again, his anger flaring so she falls silent again. She knows how much he needs to protect everyone on Atlantis, especially her. But it's not something he can solve so she adds quickly: "I appreciate his honesty. At least, I know where I stand and I won't have to make a fool of myself – again – by asking that he'd join the expedition."

"Yeah well," he retorts cynically, "good for him or I'd have to put him in the brig for hurting you."

She laughs humorlessly and falls silent again, lost in her thoughts.

"Lizabeth, I'm not really good at talking to people about their..." he hesitates.

"Feelings?" she offers, quirking an eyebrow, knowing how hard this is for him and slapping herself mentally for putting him through this.

He sniggers. "Yeah, that! But I'm here and I'm more than ready to listen if that helps. You have to understand one thing tho'. I can't promise I'll show sympathy for the guy."

She smiles at him. "I'm not asking you to, John. And thanks for the offer but I guess not much can be said about it. I left for a year. He found it too long to wait and decided to move on. Actually, I can't blame him. End of the story. I'll get over it – eventually. I just need my best friend to talk to and maybe, maybe, if you don't mind, that is, your shoulder to cry on..."

He steps forward and wraps his arms tightly around her, giving her a bear hug. "You can have me and my shoulders all you want. Anytime," he whipers in her hair before pulling back.

She smiles fondly at him and kisses his cheek. "Thank you, John. Goodnight."

He bids her goodnight too and waits for her door to close before going to his quarters. Going to sleep proves much more difficult than he had anticipated – mulling about the pain he's seen in her eyes and the thought of her with another man. He'd never thought about that before – how she could be someone's girlfriend, how one day she might become someone's wife. He realizes he doesn't like the idea at all. Something he'd never thought possible as he's always been the love 'em, leave 'em type up to now, never even giving settling down another thought. Seeing her pain, he realizes he'd be damned pissed if someone had hurt, say, Teyla's feelings but not as pissed as he's now. It's unsettling. She's his boss and friend after all, not any woman.

He's finally settled in his bed, having removed his BDUs and donned his pyjama bottoms, and has decided against reading when he hears her scream at the top of her lungs. It takes him but a few seconds to leave his bed and rush to her door, not asking for her permission to come in. She's sitting upright in her bed, her eyes wild with fear, like a few days before. He strides to her and sits on the side of the bed, looking concerned. She doesn't give him time to talk. Just wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close, burying her head in his neck. He holds her tight and doesn't move an inch, letting her settle her breath and her heart rate.

They're still in the same exact position when Colonel Caldwell finds them a few minutes later. "What's going on here?" he demands, startling Elizabeth who's not heard the door whoosh open. "I've been told there were screams coming from your quarters, Dr Weir." He frowns at the sight of John holding Elizabeth so tightly but can also see her arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. John doesn't move, only turning his head to answer him: ""Dr Weir's had a bad dream, Sir. It happens quite often these days, especially since we left Atlantis. It's mostly the reason why she's so exhausted, refusing to go to sleep as she's afraid to wake up everybody with her nightmares."

Caldwell relaxes a little. "May I come in, Elizabeth?" he asks, still standing in the doorway. She silently nods, taking deep breaths to calm down before letting go of John's neck and wrapping her arms around her knees. He takes the chair and comes to sit closer. "Do you want me to call Dr Beckett or our own doctor?"

She shakes her head. "I'm fine, Colonel. I'm sorry about all this. I didn't mean to disturb anyone. I'm OK now. Carson gave me medication. He knows about all this. I'll see Dr Heightmeyer as soon as we get to Atlantis, I promise. Right now tho', all I need is someone to wake me when I start having those dreams so they don't plague me so much. We all have bad dreams on Atlantis. It was not in the job description but that's how it is!" she adds with humor.

He snorts. "We all do at Stargate Command and on the Daedalus too," he confirms. "But if it gets out of control..." he insinuates.

She locks eyes with him, tilting her head to the side, her hand on John's arm, silently warning him that this is her call. "It won't. It never did, even when we were under siege. I don't see why it would now." Her tone is final so he gives her a tense smile and a nod.

"Very well, Dr Weir. However, you might want to solve the problem sooner than later. Some people might object to your military commander spending time in your room, tho' for the sole purpose of keeping away your bad dreams." His tone is matter of fact, not smug. He's just stating a fact and she startles a little at the remark.

She sees that John doesn't, as tho' he'd already given it a thought or two. She shelves the thought for later, when they have time to talk, and nods her understanding to Caldwell. "I appreciate your concern and honesty, Colonel. The matter, I think, will soon be settled as we only have a few days left to return home. In the meantime, I'd appreciate if I was allowed Colonel Sheppard's presence by my side so I won't disturb the rest of your team," she adds.

She's noticed that John has been surprisingly very quiet during the whole exchange, standing from the side of the bed and leaning his shoulder against the wall. As Caldwell bids her goodnight and leaves, he follows him without a word and she's left to wonder if he's embarrassed at being caught in her room.

Caldwell waits for John to close the door. "I hope we're on the same wave-length here, Colonel," he says sternly. "I understand Dr Weir's plight but you two can't make a habit of it."

Sheppard sneers at him. "Of course, Sir."

Caldwell watches him, not too happy about the disrepectful tone of the younger man. "Don't push it, Colonel. And most of all, don't let this all promotion stunt pulled by your boss go to your head," he snaps. "You're not everyone's favorite flyboy. But for the sake of Dr Weir, I'll give you a friendly warning. Do not forget the non-fraternization regulations." Sheppard growls but Calwell plods on: "She might be civilian and Pegasus might be another galaxy but if the IOA has wind of it, they won't hesitate to use it against her to take the city away from her." He lifts his hand, seeing Sheppard ready to cut him in: "Let me finish. That being said, you must know that I've come to think that Dr Weir is the best choice for the leadership of Atlantis. I won't use it against her but I won't be able to help you if you screw up."

John sniggers. "Funny! You're the second person to tell me so in less than a week," he remarks. "And yet, I won't let her get hurt for the sake of saving my ass. I'd rather take the blame," he adds, fuming now. How dare all those bureaucrats tell them how to live when they have no idea what they're going through? But of course, those people couldn't care less, he reflects silently.

Caldwell sighs and turns to leave. "Unfortunately, Sheppard, it might not be your call," he says over his shoulder before disappearing down the corridor.

John takes a minute to calm down, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side, before he heads back to her door and knocks on it this time. When he doesn't hear her, he knocks again. "I'm coming in, Elizabeth." He waits for a few seconds then opens the door. She's still sitting where he left her, her head bent, and doesn't look up when he approaches her.

"Man," he banters, "you could think I'd offended him personally by being in your room. I feel like a sixteen-year-old again, smooching on the front porch!" He flashes her his lopsided grin when she raises her head but stops in his tracks when he sees her look.

"You don't have to be my knight in shining armor, Colonel. I can take care of myself," she adds pointedly.

He chooses to keep his lighter tone, not wanting to let her sour mood settle in. "Well, my lady, I really don't mind defending your honor!"

She pouts. "John, please, be serious for once! If Caldwell decides to report the incident..."

He cuts her in, seeing the look of distress in her eyes. "He won't." She quirks an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. "We've had an honest conversation. He's not that bad, you know." She tilts her head, surprised. He laughs. "Yeah, I know. Wouldn't have pegged me for a Caldwell worshipper, uh?! He's OK, actually." He comes to sit next to her and takes her hands. Her knuckles are white from holding them so tightly around her knees. "But he's warned me not everyone will react the same way."

She nods her agreement. "I know. I agree with him that we need to be careful. Plus, I can understand you're not a big fan of being seen "smooching on the front porch" with your boss," she adds, averting her eyes.

He growls, his temper flaring. This is what he was afraid of. She thinks he's embarrassed. "We're not smooching, damn it! And even if we were, I wouldn't give a damn about what people think of us! We're an expedition, for God's sake, and I'm getting tired of all those talks about rules and regulations. We're doing our jobs. That's the only thing that should count at the end of the day!"

She lays her hand soothingly on his arm and rubs it gently. "Yes, we are. And they're lucky to have you. I understand that you don't like being told but they need to reinforce the idea fraternization might compromise the safety of the expedition, John." She's trying to counter his temper, speaking very quietly, looking at him kindly, with that half-smile she keeps only for him.

He sighs and lays his hand gently on her own. "They will only achieve conniving and lies from good people who won't have any other choice if they want to have a life. Sorry about that. It just angers me," he apologizes, giving her a small smile.

"No need to apologize. I'm your friend and you've no idea how grateful I am you're my military commander. You might border on downright disrespect at times but at least we do have real, heart-to-heart conversations and that's refreshing, especially after the week I've been through." She smiles then gets silent again.

"Hey! Are you ready to get back to sleep yet? I don't mind the conversations but it's quite late and I want you to sleep. Doctor's orders. Wouldn't want to get yet another licking from Beckett," he points out.

"Has he appointed you my baby-sitter?" she teases him.

"Actually, yes. I'm supposed to inforce your curfews and forcefeed you if need be," he banters back, winking. "She laughs but then falls silent again. "What is it, 'Lizabeth?" he worries, looking her in the eyes.

She blushes a little. "I'm afraid to go back to sleep. Would you very much mind..." She hesitates.

He smiles at her. "Anything. You know it, don't you? Anything to make you feel better. Just ask." He stands and walks to the door. "I'll be right back. Time for me to grab my pyjama top and switch off the lights in my room."

"John, wait. I can't ask you to sleep on a chair again. Forget about it. I'll be just fine," she counters.

"No way, young lady. And if you're worried about me being comfortable, I can still grab my mattress and lay it on the floor by your bed. Does that sound acceptable to you?" he offers.

She beams at him. "Just don't get caught red-handed, John. Wouldn't want to explain to the IOA why my 2IC spends his nights in my room," she winks at him.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

And this is how they try to establish a pattern over the weeks that follow. Even with Woolsey around and even though by returning to the city, the anguish that has plagued her diminishes to a more acceptable level of stress. She still has nightmares but is less worried about going to bed, knowing John will often be close by, knowing also that she is with her people, her city. Being away was too much to bear, knowing something – anything – might happen while they were not there. Twice she's had to go to Earth and each time was a conundrum. The second time she almost lost everything. Her entire flagship team – except Teyla who became her beacon in an otherwise nightmarish situation – her city and John. This is when she knows for certain she will do everything in her power to keep them all alive. This is when she realizes that Earth is no longer home to her. That if she were to be separated from her city and her people, she might as well cease to exist.

That first night when they're reunited on Atlantis and Woolsey is already scurrying around, shadowing her and being a real pain in the neck, they silently agree across the conference table to not try something too bold. So they keep away from each other and talk only through they're communicators. They both fall asleep with them still on but she grabs only a couple of hours' sleep before the nightmares return and she opts against staying in bed, instead heading for the commissary for coffee and then to her office to catch up with the pile of reports waiting for her on her laptop.

When Woolsey leaves, she's beyond tired and has lost so much weight from the worrying, sleep-deprivation and lack of proper meals that John usually forces her to take that she is threatened by Beckett with another stay in the infirmary. Ensues a memorable shouting match between Carson and her that leave them both exhausted. Carson doesn't want to let go so he summons Sheppard to the infirmary.

"What's going on here?" John can see they're pretty tense, each one on either side of the examination table, their arms crossed defensively on their chests.

Carson turns an exasperated look toward him. "Colonel, you were supposed to take care of your bullheaded boss. Instead of which, her tension is down, she's lost quite a few pounds and is bordering on exhaustion. Cannot I trust you with one little task?!"

Sheppard knows he's taking out his anger on him, not really blaming him, but yet, it hurts. He knows he should have ignored Woosley and gone on with what has become their routine since that night on the Daedalus. It's been several days since he's spent a night in her room or had a meal with her, let alone had some downtime with her on their balcony or in the TV room. Everybody is used to seeing them together and no one has anything to say about it, especially now Kavanaugh has once more requested to go back to Earth. And it angers John that he had to act differently when Woolsey was around because truth be told, they're not doing anything wrong. They've always avoided discussing this but he's always been very careful about not crossing the line either, tho' he's thought about it more times than he can recount.

McKay might still call him Captain Kirk from time to time, just for the sake of being his usual ass, but even him knows there's more than meets the eye. Behind the cocky pilot is a tormented soul who often stays awake at night while she sleeps next to him. They've moved their quarters to a farther section of the city that was more recently discovered, with larger rooms and private baths. For the sake of appearances they each have one but John mostly spends his nights when not off-world in her quarters that sport a double bed. It's really the only thing that could be frown upon if discovered. They each sleep on their side of the bed tho' she falls back to sleep in his arms when he holds her when she has nightmares. He usually returns to his quarters an hour before his shift begins to have a shower and then has breakfast with her in her office or his to go over the day's schedule. The coffee machine she's offered him is the reason why they now often meet in his office rather than hers, they both rationalize, but each one knows without voicing it out loud that it gives them more privacy than her own glass-walled one overlooking the gate room.

They need that time away from the hustle and bustle of the city, sometimes to reconnect after long days he spends off-world with his team. She's more and more tempted to go with them just for the sake of staying with him but refrains because she knows deep down they have to find a balance if they want to prove that fraternization can indeed work, that she won't make some rakish decision because of the closeness they've developed.

They both think a lot about that conversation they had about regulations and how it could affect their leadership and work hard to always put their people and city first and foremost. They've not crossed lines, except for sleeping in the same bed, but it's making John miserable, even more so as he cannot know for sure where Elizabeth stands on the matter.

One night, she doesn't seem to be ready to go to sleep even tho' they've gotten ready to go to bed, having the same shifts that day. She finally comes clean and tells him she's had too much coffee while preparing for the weekly transmission to Earth. He chuckles and switches on the lights on the bedside tables. "OK," he teases her. "Little one doesn't want to go to bed. Time for a story," he says, grabbing his book from his table.

She quirks an eyebrow. "You sincerely don't think I'm going to be lulled to sleep by War and Peace, right?"

He gives her an innocent look. "If you'd told me earlier, we'd have gone to watch a movie. Now, tho', I'm feeling quite underdressed..." he quips and laughs out loud.

"So you really want to read to me?" she prods.

"Well, actually, if you don't like my voice," to which she smiles fondly and shakes her head in disbelief at his antics, "we can still read it at the same time. Come here," he offers, holding his arm open for her to settle against him. She hopes she doesn't look shocked. It's not the first time he offers his arms but any other time was because she'd had a bad dream. This is new... She hesitates just a second before letting herself be tempted. She sidles closer, rests her head on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his waist, settling comfortably against him. He shivers at her touch but wraps his arm more tightly around her and holds the book open with his free hand. They settle in a comfortable silence that is only slightly disrupted by the turning of the pages.

She helps him turn yet another page and rests her hand back on his chest, sighing with content and cuddles some more, unconsciously wrapping her leg over his. His reaction is immediate. He drops the book and gently pushing her away, abruptly leaves the bed and stands by it, breathing hard.

She looks in alarm at him, not grasping first what has happened. "What?" she demands as she sees him head for the bathroom with a sweat shirt and sweat pants, only to reappear a few seconds later clad in them, obviously getting ready to leave. "What?" she repeats, watching him with worried eyes.

"You want to know what?! She wants to know what!" he adds sarcastically, his eyes looking up at God and the ceiling. He turns to her and tries to keep his voice low but it only comes out husky to his ears. "I'm just a man, 'Lizbeth, that's what!"

She had started suspecting that was the cause of his sudden temper but denial is bliss. "Oh!" she simply says, looking suddenly very sheepish. "I'm sorry?" she tentatively offers.

His eyebrows reach his hairline and she sees he's not going to let her go down easy. "Really?" he demands sarcastically.

"Yeah, really," she replies truthfully, pushing back the comforter and coming to sit nearer.

He's standing at the foot of the bed, glaring at her. "Well, let me doubt that because that's the dumbest thing to do to a man who's sharing your bed if you don't want him to act upon it. So either you've come to see me as a sort of substitute brother, which I might add I'm certainly not, or you're outrageously flirting with me, having fun at my expense because you know damn well I cannot possibly take you at your word because of those stupid regulations! Either way, 'Lizbeth, that's really cruel," he says and stomps to the door, not giving her a second look.

She jumps from the bed and reaches the door before him, blocking the way. "John, we need to talk about this," she begs and reaches out to him but he pushes her hand away not too gently.

"No, we don't. Please get away from that door before I do something I regret," he groans, averting his eyes.

"No!" she says quietly and crosses her arms on her chest. "You're not going anywhere, John Sheppard! Not until we've talked this out."

"Please, move, 'Lizabeth." The table are turned and it's his turn to do the begging. If one day someone had told him he'd find himself right there in front of her, discussing their non-relationship and his hurt feelings, he would have laughed at the notion. This should never have happened. He tells her and she blushes furiously.

"I'm sorry," she offers again. "Really, John. I'm your boss. This was downright harrassment even tho' it was never my intention. Not that I haven't given it a thought – well, several thoughts, actually – I mean about you and me, these last few months... year." She blushes again and hangs her head in embarrassment and shame. That's new! She's babbling like a fifteen-year-old caught by her father with a boyfriend. The conversation they had on the Daedalus comes back to hit her like a ton of bricks. She's been smooching on the front porch with her 2IC, except he had never agreed to it in the first place. Her caution and care for rules and regulations and propriety fly through the window. She realizes she's not cared for those for quite a long time – actually since they had said conversation. Their relationship has been the elephant in the room they've been tiptoeing around, both careful not to wake the monster, except now she realizes it was never about their relationship, which probably only belongs to the realm of her fantasies, but about her not realizing how hard he had tried to be a friend even when she was putting him through this ordeal of keeping her from crossing the lines.

He looks at her in befuddlement. He rolls his eyes then barks at her: "Ya think this is all about me telling you you're crossing the lines between camaraderie and harrassment? And what is that cryptic message about 'you and me'? Do you know how many times I've stayed awake a night while you cuddled in my arms, willing myself to simply not think about you that way because that wouldn't be proper and you wouldn't approve, being always the one to set the example here. Do you know how difficult it is to hold you and think about how good we could be together if only you allowed me and things were different?!" He's glaring at her, looming over her, his eyes set on her and for a second she realizes that the man she's come to think of as the gentlest of all is also capable of killing a man with his bare hands.

She takes a step back and her back hits the door. "It was never my intention to hurt your feelings, John. Had I known you felt that way, I wouldn't have put you through this ordeal," she whispers, her eyes brimming with tears, understanding they've come to a point of no return and she's on the verge of losing him. If she lets him leave her room, she might never have a chance to make it up to him and knowing how stubborn he is she might very well find his resignation on her desk tomorrow. "And if my message was too cryptic for you to understand, I apologize – again. It seems I'm not a people person after all," she adds bitterly, making him snort and she recalls a conversation she had not so long ago with Teyla about John's inability to express himself. Now it's her turn to not find the right words, it seems, so she opts for the only other option she has left – desperate time calling for desperate measures, after all. She leans in and touches her lips to his gently – not daring to do more first lest he might lose it and start yelling at her again.

He doesn't move but doesn't push her away either. He seems to be evaluating the situation but she also knows she's already gone too far, not knowing where he stands. "John, please," she begs softly, "you're killing me here. I've taken the first step. If you want more, you're gonna have to say it. Otherwise it's improper behavior on my part as your superior."

He leans toward her and whispers in her ear: "Are you sure about that, 'Lizabeth? Cos there's no going back then. And FYI, I don't care about their damn anti-fraternization rules. We're already deep into it, whether they like it or not. Hell, we were there long before we started sharing a bed. I've cared for you for as long as we've been on this city in a way I'd never thought would ever be possible for me. So if you don't mind, I have one last warning to give you before you decide where you want me to spend the night. If you only see me as a rebound fling or as a sex friend, make no mistake. I will not allow for that. Understood?"

She can but nod at what he says because she's suddenly too intimidated to utter a word. He sees the look she gives him, both sheepish and a little afraid, and he teases her to lighten the mood, tho' his heart is heavy at the thought of being rejected: "Why, Dr Weir! I'd never thought there'd come a day when I'd render you speechless!"

She smiles shyly at him and steps into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and putting her head cautiously over his heart, hearing it beat furiously in his chest. "Please, stay," she begs. "You'll never be a fling, John, and as for the rebound, I'm glad Simon left me or I would have had to tell him I was seeing someone."

He wraps his arms around her and tucks her head under his chin. "I was married once, 'Lizabeth."

She nods. "I know. Read it in your file."

"She said I was a difficult man to live with when at home. Don't want you to think this is gonna be a walk in the park, sweetheart. I'm not sure you're betting on the right horse, here, tho' I'm not complaining you're choosing me," he warns her, grinning all the same, still trying to wrap his head around the wonder of getting the girl he'd never have dreamed he could ever have.

"I say she's had her chance with you but blew it. Too bad for her. Stop tormenting yourself, John. You're a good man and you're easy to live with. We've spend more time together these last few months than most couples and I don't have to complain either. Cut yourself some slack," she says softly before pulling away and kissing him gently. She then tugs at his hand. "Now, come to bed, will ya? We both need our beauty sleep," she says, winking.

She settles in bed and motions for him to come and join her but he hesitates. "Are you sure? Don't you think I should kiss you good night and go sleep in my quarters. Time for things to cool down," he elaborates, seeing her raising an eyebrow. "So we don't, hum, get carried away, so to speak..." he adds, cringing. Way to go, Sheppard, he chides himself. Now she's not gonna to be scared at all!

She chuckles. "Listen, Colonel," she teases him, "we'll take it as slow as you want. You don't have to worry. I wouldn't want you to file a complain for impropriety, wouldn't I?"

He smirks and takes her proferred hand, still hesitating. "What about the others, Lizbeth? The people of the city, Homeworld Security, the IAO?" he adds, cringing when he utters the last word.

She laughs out loud and smirks at his embarrassed look. "John Sheppard, I would never have pegged you for the worrying type. I say let's keep that thought for a rainy day. You told me once yourself. Carpe diem. Now, come to bed, please," she pleads while tugging at the hem of his sweat-shirt and rewards him with a smile that could light up the whole city when he removes it and returns the favor, slowly sliding his hands under her pyjama top, the heat and intensity of his gaze telling her in no uncertain terms that they probably won't get much sleep tonight.

TBC


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

Rodney slowly turns on his back, careful not to wake her. He eyes the alarm clock's red display that tells him he's again awaken in the wee small hours of the morning when he's barely been asleep a couple of hours. These days, it seems sleep evades him. He growls inwardly and fumbles with the comforter. She turns towards him and tries to grab his arm but he's already standing by the bed, donning his slippers and bathrobe. "Come back to bed, love. At your age you need all the sleep you can get," she mumbles, already turning back on her side.

He bends and kisses her hair. "No, you go back to sleep, Jen. I won't get any sleep, even if I try. I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll see you later. Love you," he adds before tiptoeing to the door, knowing she's probably not heard the last part, being fast asleep.

"Love you too, genius," she whispers back before he leaves the room.

He smirks. They've had this routine for more years than he cares to count and it warms his heart to know that he too got the girl. As usual, his thoughts lock onto his memories of John and he shakes his head to get rid of the sadness that invades him everytime he reminisces about his friend.

He fumbles for the light switch in the kitchen area, his other hand rubbing his eyes to remove the last trace of sleep that dims his vision. He realizes he's left his reading glasses in the bedroom and curses under his breath. She might tell him day in and day out he's the same man who courted her so many years ago but he knows better. He's not getting any younger and if he doesn't have his glasses, he won't be able to read the morning paper if that damned kid doesn't forget to deliver it to his doorstep as it often happens these days.

"What are you mumbling about, Rodney?" The voice is low and teasing and he could recognize it in a room full of people.

He turns around with a start and peers at the dark room, his hand still trying to locate the switch.

The lights as well as those of the Xmas tree standing in the corner of the living room are suddenly switched on as if of their own accord. "Better this way?" The voice is taunting him again.

He turns toward the tree and, squinting at the sudden brightness, and makes out a shimmering form that is slowly approaching him and getting more palpable as seconds go by. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands. Someone holds him his glasses and he takes them and puts them on without giving it a second thought. The vision is now much clearer but he still cannot believe his eyes.

"John?" is all he manages to utter.

John laughs out loud, visibly very happy of the prank he's just played on his friend. "Yes, Rodney, that would be me!" he quips.

"How is that possible? The last time we checked you were still on the edge of the Pegasus galaxy!" He sees the grin on his friend's face and he suddenly gets all excited: "Oh my God, you ascended! You ascended, right?"

John answers with a smile. "I did, yes. Actually, if your memory is not failing you yet," he teases him, "I could have a long time ago."

"I know. And I also remember you refusing to do so as long as Elizabeth was not included in the package." Rodney suddenly feels sadness grip his heart. If his friend has ascended, it can only mean one thing – that his health had deteriorated further and he couldn't wait any longer. The last few years have been harsh on him and even tho' she has always taken good care of him, life there had really only been fit for her. He knows from the scans of the planet that winters are harsh and summers even harder. Over the years, himself and a group of faithful friends have endeavored to make John's life as comfortable as possible but a deal is a deal and no modern equipment that might serve one day to help the nanites escape has been allowed on the planet. Comfort is rudimentary at best. Elizabeth could fend off for herself but John is – was only human.

John smiles at him fondly. "You were always such a good friend, Rodney. Your concern warms my heart but you shouldn't worry tho' yes, to answer your unasked question, I was going to die," he elaborates, at the same time looking over Rodney's shoulder.

"Are you talking to yourself again, dear," Jennifer inquires, entering the room as she finishes putting on her robe. "Oh my! Dr Weir! John!"

McKay turns around and startles at the sight of Elizabeth standing next to Jennifer. Not the Elizabeth he remembers from the last time she had been on Atlantis but his Elizabeth – his leader, the one whom he had forsaken the thought of ever seeing again. She's wearing the same uniform she had worn so many times, her shoulder-length curly hair glowing in the soft light of the Christmas tree, her green eyes sparkling with joy. He is speechless as he sees Jennifer go hug one then the other, realizing as she does that they are both flesh and blood. John takes pity on him. "Elizabeth has also ascended, McKay. Don't worry. She's no threat to anyone anymore."

"How?" he only manages to say then realizes it might sound too businesslike tho' his mind is screaming for an explanation, needing to understand how the impossible has suddenly become a reality. He steps forward and wraps Elizabeth tightly in his arms then gives a bear hug to John too.

"Why don't we sit down?" John offers.

Jennifer smiles at him. "Excellent idea. Why don't I make us a pot of fresh coffee? And if Rodney has been reasonable – which I hope he has, for his own good," she adds threateningly, " I might still have some homemade cookies to go with it. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful," Elizabeth says and goes to help her.

"I mean, do you still drink or eat?" Jennifer suddenly worries.

Elizabeth laughs. "Yes, we do. We don't need to but we can. And it would be a pleasure to join you."

They all sit around the coffee table. Rodney is fidgety at best. He feels like he's going to explode. There are so many things he wants to tell them, ask them. "So, you guys got eh, permission to ascend, uh?" he asks while nibbling at his third cookie.

John shakes his head in disbelief. "After all those years I would have thought you'd become wiser when it comes to food, McKay," he teases him.

Rodney shrugs. "You won't change me or my metabolism," he says, tapping the side of his head. "When my brain is on overload, my blood sugar level drops. Nasty side effect," he half-apologizes as he reaches for yet another cookie, making everyone laugh. "So, spit it out," he demands. "What happened?"

"Well, I don't know, McKay, we both ascended. What else is there to say?" John stalls just for the fun of seeing his friend squirm.

Elizabeth reaches for John's hand and squeezes it. "Come on, love, put him out of his misery," she suggests.

His eyes twinkle but he complies. "I appealed to the Ancients over the years, asking them to let us both ascend but they always refused, as you may know. Some weeks ago, I got really sick and called for Teer to intercede for us. They offered once more to let me ascend without Elizabeth. I said I'd rather die. To cut a long story short and days on end of negociations, they ackowledged that quite a few of them had tried to intercede in our favor but were worried that it might create a precedent. That's when Elizabeth reminded them of Chaya. She offered them a compromise." He looks at her and winks. "Shrewd negociator, my wife," he says proudly and she beams at him.

Rodney rolls his eyes. "You're killing us, here! What happened?"

His wife snorts and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Be nice, McKay and let the man talk," she admonishes him.

"Thank you, Doctor," John says. "Glad to see someone can shut him up." Rodney grumbles and John pats him arm gently. "As I was saying, Elizabeth reminded the Ancients of Chaya's shunning to her planet to teach other potentially disobedient Ancients a lesson – that whoever tried to intervene in wordly affairs would be rejected and punished. Elizabeth offered for us to be shunned in the same manner to deter anyone from thinking the Ancients were going soft."

"It was a long shot," Elizabeth interrupts. "I thought they'd object we were not in the same situation and the shunning would only apply to John to make sure he wouldn't try to help his human friends in two galaxies. They pleasantly surprised us by finding the idea interesting and agreed. And yet, we were afraid they might want to separate us to punish us for twisting their arm. Teer said she and her friends could not let John down after what he had done for them. She offered a shrewd solution that would please both parties. John would be shunned to Earth and I to Atlantis so each of us would be in charge of protecting one of our homes. So you see, as long as Atlantis is going back and forth between the Milky Way and Pegasus as it is doing now, we will never leave each other and you will always be protected." Elizabeth smiles fondly at Rodney and Jen. "We're heading to Scotland to tell Carson and then will go and see General Lorne on Atlantis to explain to him the new situation."

"Do Teyla and Ronon already know?" Rodney manages to ask.

"Yes, they do. We were allowed to drop by before being stranded on our new homes," John says with a smile. "And it's not as if we would not be seeing each other ever again. They'll come and visit. Well, guys, it was nice seeing you but we have to scare a Scottish doctor out of his brains," he adds with a smile, putting his mug back on the table and standing. "Can't wait to see his face," he chuckles, winking at his wife.

She slaps his arm playfully. "You're such a kid!" she chides him but sees Rodney's look and sighs. "Rodney, don't be sad. We've ascended. We are going nowhere. We'll be seeing each other a lot from now on."

He beams at her and hugs her before shaking John's hand. "You promise?"

"We do, Rodney. But no bickering you two," she warns him and John who both laugh out loud.

John holds his hand out to Elizabeth with a smile, ready to leave.

Rodney stops him with a hand on his arm. John's eybrows shoot to his hairline. "Wait! I need to know, Sheppard... Elizabeth," he added, turning his gaze to her but suddenly feeling self-conscious. Elizabeth nods at him silently. "Did you have a good life? I mean, all those years on that rock, not having anything but what we occasionally beamed down. No entertainment, no company, no football matches or Ferris wheels for you, John and no reports to fill, Elizabeth, not even the certainty that you'd ascend some day. I often thought about how you would fare all alone..." His voice trails off, embarrassed, his face turning an endearing beet red and Jen couldn't be more proud of her husband than she is at that precise moment.

"We had each other, Rodney," John replies, smiling fondly at him. "And if Elizabeth allows me to speak for the both of us," he adds, glancing at her for her approval, which he sees she gladly gives him, "that was more than enough."

Elizabeth's and John's eyes shine with unshed tears of gratitude as they turn to their friends.

"As a matter of fact, we do have one regret, tho'," John adds.

"We do?" his wife asks, one tell-tale eyebrow lifting.

"Of course, my sweet," he quips, his eyes suddenly shining with a mischivious grin and a very characteristic smirk lifting one side of his lips. "Remember we always promised ourselves that we would one day have that wedding party we never managed to pull with all our friends?"

She smirks and turns to Rodney who's looking at her bemused but she and John see Jen has already understood the hint, nodding at them, a twinkle in her eyes. "Are you two doing anything special in a couple of days?" she asks.

"Uh?" is his not so smart answer.

She laughs. "Atlantis, lots of champagne, music, dancing, us saying I do all over again..." she elaborates, lifting her eyebrows expectantly.

"Oh, oh, right, yes, yes, absolutely, we'll be there!" he replies enthusiastically before seeing the two of them disappear in a shimmer of entertwining lights.

He turns to his wife, beaming. "Ah, I love champagne and I know it's lame but ain't it great when a story goes full circle!"

The End

 _I hope you liked it. Whether you did or not, please review. It's my first published fic in ages. I'd love to have some feedback. Thanks for reading :)_


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